


Bloody Knives and Unhappy Wives

by totallyinnocent



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Drama & Romance, Italian Mafia, M/M, Mild Gore, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyinnocent/pseuds/totallyinnocent
Summary: Gerard Way is pitiful. His parents had finally had enough of his tragic excuse of a job and kicked him out, claiming it was for his own good. He saw this coming from a month or two away, so he called his much more well off younger brother, Mikey. Mikey gives him an address for a discreet meet up, claiming he has a job Gerard could do for some quick cash. All Gerard had to do was tell him when he'd finally been kicked to the curb and he'd be there.It happened. Gerard Way is officially homeless. He calls Mikey to let him know the news, Mikey just states to go to the address and promises to still hold up his offer. When Gerard arrives, it's not Mikey who's waiting.(In progress)
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Comments: 55
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

A violent burning spreads across Gerard Way's face, causing him to wake with a yelp. A pair of large metal boots stand before his line of blurry vision, attached to an even larger man. The man scoffs down at Gerard, muttering something along the lines of 'pathetic.' A trickle of warm liquid slips in between his slightly ajar lips, filling his mouth with a metallic taste, blood. Gerard hand flies up to his nose, sure enough, he's bleeding, heavily, at that. The shiny boots nicely showcase the blood splattered upon them, _mine_ , he presumes.

Gerard cranes his neck to get a look at the man, the jerk takes this opportunity to speak, "You absolute piece of shit, your lazy ass is why our society is failing. Wake up and get a job," he grunts, with a deep croaky voice.

Blaming our society's sorry excuse of a government on Gerard hardly seems logical, but he knows not to rouse his anger any further. Sleeping in a dark alley is frowned upon in this high class neighborhood.

"Get out of here, punk. Before I call the cops." His eyes look over Gerard a bit more, smirking menacingly, "Looks like you're over 18, you know what that means."

He did, in fact, know what that meant. It means that Gerard Way will be sent to court or be heavily fined, and asked to pay with money he doesn't have for breaking the law of the city. Before the man has anymore time to insult or threaten the tired soul, he picks up the drawstring bag, continues down the shady alley he'd slept in, and saunter out onto the busy sidewalk.

He pulls out a slip of paper from the back pocket of his ragged skinny jeans, checking for the 48th time that he hadn't misread the address his brother had told him to meet at when in his darkest hour. With a sigh of relief, he slips the paper back into it's place and continues heading down the street. 

No one pays Gerard any mind, though he does get a few double takes over the childish drawstring that contains his bare belongings, but they then decide it's not worth their time. Walking around makes Gerard happier. Since he was only thrown out the other day, he was still in pretty decent condition, smartly having showered everyday leading to his eviction. Everyone treats him like a regular human being, just like them, not some homeless dirty kid who should be spat upon.

It's a bar. Gerard Way's very much under-drinking-age brother has asked him to meet up at a bar. Sure, he could definitely pass as being 21, but he isn't even 19 yet. He has no place to be drinking beer. Yet, he couldn't exactly blame him, Gerard was never the best role model. Him constantly chugging beer and smoking cigarettes wouldn't exactly do any good for a young impressionable brother, who tends to praise the ground Gerard walks upon.

No matter how much he racks his brain, Gerard still had no clue why on earth he'd look up to someone like him, while he may be his older brother, he was a pretty poor one at that. Mikey had gone on to have a stable job and a loving boyfriend right out of high school, whilst his brother rotted away at home, making bits of money here and there with his shitty art. They had lost touch once he immediately moved out, but when Gerard called him and explained Mom and Dad had kicked him to the curb, he'd given him a meet up point. Saying that he believes he can get Gerard a job or a good amount of money to help him get back on his feet. 

Gerard hates when things are given to him, he hates when people show pity towards him in general, but Mikey explained that Gerard could do a simple job to get the cash or even be hired full time. With hopes and dreams of his art getting somewhere in the world, he'd rather the first option.

Pushing open the creaky door, he finds the bar decently filled with people, despite it only being 4 pm. Looking around, Gerard's curious eyes get the best of him, and he observes the odd people who sat here.

A woman cheating on her husband was currently making out with a boy much younger than her, an outline of her ring poking out of her pocket, and her tan line still prominent on her ring finger, currently caressing his face. It wasn't a divorce either, considering they had clearly done this before and are expertly teetering on the line of groping and full on intercourse. The evident tan line and the expert making out suggested cheating on a man she was still married too.

A man clearly waiting for his dealer was clawing at the table with his chewed down nails, clearly suffering from a heavy withdraw. His oily hair and ratty clothes suggested he'd been neglecting self care, but he definitely had a home. The small keys poking out of his pocket suggested a cheap studio apartment and the professional briefcase suggested a well paying job, sadly, its rewards were being used for something as unhealthy as drugs. Though, Gerard's not really one to talk.

His eyes continue to sweep the room, looking for another person with a story he gets to unfold, when instead they land on Pete, huddled in a booth at the very back of the bar near the bathrooms and the emergency exit. Gerard quickly hurries over to him, wanting to see his brother for the first time in a while, only to find Pete alone, taking a swig of beer.

"Pete!" He exclaims, happy to see a familiar face, despite it not being his brother's.

He shoots him a death glare and drags the confused man outside the bar through the emergency exit, whose alarms seem to be broken, "What the fuck are you thinking, Way?!" he yells angrily.

Shoving his hands into the tight pockets of his jeans, Gerard wondered how he should apologize, not knowing how to or even what he should even be apologizing for. Pete notices the complete lack of knowledge for the situation and sighs heavily, snapping his fingers towards a sleek black car. Taking this as a demand, not a question, Gerard pulls his hands out of the tight pockets and holds the strings of the bag on his back. He hurries towards the vehicle, then opens the car door and carefully climb in, trying not to damage it.

Pete, however, flops onto the driver's seat and slams his door roughly. A pang of jealousy hits Gerard, he can treat expensive items so poorly, just because he could easily buy another. He does not start the car, instead, he looks at Gerard, seeming conflicted on what to say.

"Gerard, what do you know about Mikey's job?"

About to ramble on Mikey's job, he feels his brain falter, freezing up like the ancient desktop he'd work with in school. He pauses a moment, raking his vast mind for at least the conversation Mikey had mentioned it in, but none to be found. The panic begins to boil over, thinking he'd began to lose all those precious memories before he'd hit 22.

"Hey, calm down," Pete soothes, slightly alarmed at the panicked expression, "I'd be pissed if you _did_ know what he does for a living, considering the circumstances."

A deep sigh escapes Gerard's lips, thankful his memories were, in fact, still in account. Then another emotion rises, pain. Why did Mikey not tell him what he did for a living? Sure, they had lost touch, but on the rare occasion they did have a chance to talk, it should have come up in conversation. Confidential or not, Gerard is his older brother and deserves to know, especially since Mikey offered him an opportunity for the place he works.

"Gee," Gerard's heart practically swelled at the nickname, it had been well over a year, nearly two, since anyone had called him that, "I'm going to tell you as little as possible, which is actually the most I can tell you, and I need you to understand that you knowing such a small amount will benefit everyone. Do you understand?" Pete says solemnly, he nods, afraid of giving any other answer.

"You're aware of what the Mafia is, correct?" He asks. A sinking feeling flooded his chest, but Gerard keeps his mouth shut and nods. "Well, we're apart of a newer group that's risen, me and Mikey, that is. Our group only has a couple small families at the moment, but we're growing rapidly. The other groups tend to ignore us because of our newer system, the race you are doesn't matter in our group, while in others you have to be Italian to join. We're the start of a newer era... but..." he trails off, assuming this is where Gerard comes in, a sickening feeling rises within him that isn't helping the off chance he might throw up.

"There's one group that's been on our tail lately," Pete bitterly continues. "They're mainly made up of people of Italian decent, though I've heard a rumor they've made a few exceptions for those not. They also have a different system. Their group does consist of families and such like all the others, but they have a _leader_. A real leader, not the leader of a family, but a leader of all the families, the true boss. We haven't ever heard of a group run like that. Even with their weird system, they've grown to be one of the most powerful groups in history, with their blood line tracing back to some of the first men to ever start the mafia.

"Basically, they've kinda be on our asses lately and we've been having full on fights with them, all the families have been beating and shooting the other, and we're losing men as quickly as we gain them." He turns his attention back to the nauseous boy, "here's where your job comes in." Despite the gleeful nod in response, Gerard was liking this opportunity less and less. "We need to know everything we can about him. We need information. Someone who can analyze and come to correct conclusions in a mere matter of seconds."

While this does seems like it's up his alley, Gerard knows the consequences and dangers of becoming acquainted with the likes of these kinds of people. "Pete, I'm sorry, but you'll have to find someone else. I'm just not cut out for this..."

He takes a deep breath and glares with murder in his eyes, "That's funny, Gee. You see, you can't back out. You already know more than the average person, so if you're not joining us, then the only thing we can do is kill you." He pauses, visibly pissed off, and debating what to say next, "You have no fucking clue what Mikey had to do to get this damn job for you, and you're going to throw it away, just like that?"

A breath hitches in Gerard's throat and his palms grow considerably sweatier. They'd have to kill him. All he had wanted was a job for some quick cash and, just his luck, now he's getting death threats. _Great job, Gerard, you should get an award for how bad you fucked up. All you can do now is accept death or accept the job._ He internally mocks. If Mikey even had to lift a finger so he could get this opportunity, then there's no way in hell that he'll let his efforts go to waste.

After coming to a non-satisfying conclusion, he nods slowly, pressing his hands against his own thighs in distress. "Excellent, I knew you'd pick the right option," Pete grins, starting the car. "I know you don't have a place to stay, so I'll get you a motel room. We'll talk more on the way."

The car soundlessly backs out of the shabby back alley and onto the road, cars throughout the streets seamlessly merge into lanes away from them without any honking or cursing. The colorful buildings and shops fly by through the tinted windows of the vehicle in one blur of colors and shapes.

"Questions would be best answered now," Pete laughs lightly, snapping Gerard out of his trance.

"Mikey," he fumbles without any thought, still upset he hadn't met with Gerard as planned.

He sighs, "Mikey had business to take care of, so he asked me to fill you in on the details."

Knowing not to press on, he changes the subject, "What do you already know about the guy?"

Pete ponders this, "Our sources haven't been able to find anything, but they did find a shady source that gave us his current address. Apparently he moves around every couple of months, and since we only recently found the information, we're moving a bit more hastily than usual."

"Then why me, why did they accept me when so many others could have done this 200% better than me?"

"You know less, Gerard. If they attempt to force any information out of you, then you won't have much to say."

A restlessness overcomes his legs, not satisfied with the answer, "There are plenty of rookies that know what I know that could've done the job better."

Pete squeezes the steering wheel, body tensing up, face contorting in annoyance, "You have the skill set that we need-"

"That's bullshit and you know it!" he yells, becoming as annoyed as Pete looks.

That's when he snaps. He flips on autopilot and faces towards Gerard directly, squeezing the life out of his armrest. "I swear to any fucking god, Gerard. Stop being so fucking ungrateful," he yells, fire in his eyes, "You don't have any fucking clue what Mikey had to do for you! It's not as simple as a request, he had to do some serious shit! Shit that threw all of his morals out the window!"

"Like what?" he spits, a bit more venomously than intended.

Pete's face darkens, "Selling drugs, murdering innocent people, and even getting involved in sex, Gerard. You have no fucking clue how many times he came home crying, throwing up, locking himself in the bedroom for days, and whenever I demanded him to stop, he'd say it was for you. He had always tried to distance himself from the dirty parts of our organization, getting you this job _broke_ him."

After hearing what Mikey had done for him, a sick feeling filled Gerard's stomach, "It was only a job, why'd he have to do all of that..." he murmurs with less confidence than before.

"Even if we are revolutionary in our ways of the Mafia, we're still just as sick and twisted as everyone else. The head of our family had caught wind of how much Mikey needed you to have this job, so he forced Mikey to become, basically, his dog. Mikey had to do what he said when he said it, all for you. Of course, he doesn't have to anymore, now that you've got the job," he narrows his eyes, "but all the trauma doesn't just go away."

He turns his attention back on the road, driving silently. Taking this as the end of the discussion, he sits with his legs wriggling and thumbs twisting.

Pete parks the car in a parking lot, divided into spots with faded paint, and walks into the shabby check in, full of dominance. After a few minutes of conversing with the woman at the front desk, he saunters out casually with the woman on his heels, a thick ring of keys jingling in her hand. He gives a beckoning motion for Gerard to follow the two, at that, he rapidly fumbles open the car door and tumbles out to catch up.

The lady waddles to a nearby vacant room and opens the door for the two, once he and Pete stroll in, she leaves them alone.

"Gee-" he starts, only to be interrupted by the loud ring of his phone, a pretty nice guitar solo. He holds up a hand to me and answers the call, "Hey- Mikey...? Yeah, he's here," he shoots a glance towards the interested man. "Oh, now?" He furrows his brows in concern, "I'll be a minute, but I'll try to get there as quick as possible... yeah, see you... bye."

"Mikey?" he questions in a hopeful tone.

"Yeah, something came up. I'll send some guys to get you later. It was originally me who was supposed to send you off, but I'll send some trustworthy family to do it instead." The way he said 'trustworthy' made his heart drop to his stomach, there where even men in the same family that couldn't be trusted.

"I'm just going to tell you what's going to happen, the guys will explain the rest later." Gerard gives an obediently nod. "All you need to do is go in, get information, and get out. Try to find things like names, dates, locations, and all that. There will probably be pictures and documents, try to snag as many of those as possible. You'll be given a camera so no need to move anything big or obvious, just take clear photos and grab the important small stuff, it'll be easy."

Pete glances at his watch, "Right, I need to go. Sleep as much as you can, the guys will pick you up at 1 or 2-"

"In the morning?!" Gerard exclaims in shock.

"Yes, in the morning. What, did you think we'd drop you off in daylight?" Silence. "They'll give you the gear and a timer. The timer is set for when you should be back outside to leave the manor. We've already got a set route for you to get in, so you just need to get out through the same way."

A brooding question hangs in the room, Pete's clearly trying to avoid it, so Gerard is the one to ask, "What if I'm caught?"

He purses his lips into a straight line and stares him dead in the eye, "Then they'll kill you."

Even though he knew that, Gerard was still shaken. Once he nods in understanding, Pete leaves without another word. The brick-like mattress called to the tired man's sleep deprived body, despite him being fully dressed and the sun not having set, he conks out before he's even able to pull off his dirty shoes.

There's a loud bang and Gerard bolts up with a start, similar to this morning, although less pain is involved. A silhouette of a large man stands in the doorway, him clutching the frame. He stomps over to the stiff bed, grabbing the half-asleep man's wrist and drags him out the door. All Gerard does is give a silent goodbye to the forgotten drawstring as he's tossed into the back seat of a minivan. The seats behind the driver and passenger have been removed, leaving a large empty space where Gerard was tossed.

A shiver runs down his spine as something cold and metal presses against the back of his head. A gun.

"Are you Way?" He asks, voice ragged like an aged smoker.

"Yes, Sir," Gerard squeaks, trying to not break down.

The answer seems to satisfy him as he hops into the front seat and slams the door with a loud thump. An indistinct muttering comes from the passenger seat, revealing a second man not noticed previously. Great. Before, he had a one-on-one match with a bulky guy with no hope of winning, now he's over powered by two bulky guys with an even less chance of winning. It's probably dropped into the negatives, if that's even possible.

As Gerard's lost in thought, a heavily duffel bag is chucked his my head, knocking the dazed man down from sitting on his knees. The plush carpeting cushions the rough fall, but doesn't block out the noises of disapproval from the front seat. He sits with his legs crossed this time, feeling more stable, and opens the duffel, revealing a neatly folded outfit. Once he pulls it out, he sees it's a long sleeved slim fit black shirt, falling out from underneath the fold were pants of the same stretchy fabric.

Glancing towards the two guys at the front to make sure they weren't looking, Gerard tries to quietly slip into the new clothes. Tugging his arms through the sleeves makes him involuntarily release a loud squeak, causing one of the men to look back towards him. A slightly unnerving grin crawls onto his face at his vulnerable position. The loosely crossed legs weren't exactly hiding Gerard's lower region, and the tight shirt that was only half on, had his hands bound closely to his exposed chest.

Gerard quickly breaks eye contact and hastily pulls on the clothes, making sure every bit of skin possible is covered by the garments. Looking through the duffel, he notices there was nothing but the clothes inside. Odd. Hadn't Pete claimed Gerard would be given a camera? At least a _timer_ would be reasonable.

That was when he felt it. It should've been obvious right from the start. The unprofessional aura two men emitted, how they had questioned Gerard on who he was, and how they had threatened to shoot him right when they first connected eyes. He should've realized. But it's too late. The cold metal tip of a gun was pressed into the back of his head, now. How could've he have not realized? It didn't matter, it's not as though he could've done anything to stop them. It was right then he accepted death. Sent a silent goodbye to his parents, Mikey, old school acquaintances he hadn't seen in years, and even Pete. This is not the end of Gerard's story, despite the odds, for one of the men in the front said a sentence that guaranteed his life.

"We aren't done just yet, so don't even worry about death."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (oh my gosh, that's embarrassing... I posted this on the wrong fic... sorry)
> 
> Oh, wow. Look at that... people like reading my trash. All self-deprecating jokes aside, though, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! Everyone that's been conversing with me down in the comments have been super positive and sweet. I thank you for that, so, in return, here's another chapter.

The only sound that greets Gerard Way when he wakes is the booming sound of a grandfather clock. A plush surface cradles his bruised body beneath him... a bed. Gerard sits up in a start, startled at the new feeling of comfort. As he attempts to push himself out of bed to get a better grasp of his surroundings, a sharp tug at his wrists keeps him in his sitting position. One of his crossed legs becomes untangled and rockets into a beside lamp, sending it crashing to the polished wood flooring. An angry door bursts open at the other end of the room, revealing a deadly looking ginger-blonde man with a silver tray balanced in his callused hand.

"Why the fuck did you do that?! I would've heard if you yelled or some shit, y'know!" he yells, stomping over with the tray still in hand.

He sets the tray down in front of the chained man, then removes the lid to reveal a delicate platter of meats, cheeses, and bread. Carefully, he unlocks the cuffs around Gerard's chaffing wrists, and pauses to look for any sign of struggle.

"Eat," he demands once he deems the boy harmless.

Gerard immediately digs into the meal, scarfing down every scrap. He hadn't had a meal this extravagant even when he  _ was _ living with his parents, as sad as that is. Crumbs litter the bed around him, the tray becomes smudged with fingerprints, and the guard awkwardly watches him. Once the platter is licked clean without a speck of food left behind, the larger man tosses the platter aside. He grips the unlocked cuffs in his thick hands.

At the realization he's going to be locked up again, Gerard compliantly extends his hands in his direction, leaving the guard with a disgruntled look on his face.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The edges of Gerard's mouth twitch up in a fearful smile, "Making it easier for both of us," he attempts to relive.

Though, this does not relive him, instead, he narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Oh, I get it. You're trying to be a little suck up in hope I'll let you go, that right?"

If Gerard said that the thought hadn't crossed his mind, he'd be lying. So, he gives him a curt nod, which was, in hindsight, a really bad idea. This sends the guard into a rage, he flings the cuffs aside and reaches over the bed, hoisting one leg onto the mattress to steady himself. His hands clasp around Gerard's throat, expertly blocking the oxygen flow of his system. The lack of air sends him into a state of panic, his body begins to quiver and his hazel eyes begin to water.

"Bob- What the fuck?! Jesus Christ, he just got here."

The grip loosens, "Shut it, Ray. He was giving me attitude, so I put him in his place."

In response, Ray strides across the room at tears Bob's loosened hand out of reaching distance of Gerard's windpipe. Bob grunts and gets entirely off the bed to look down at the frail man with Ray. In a sudden movement, Ray's got both of Gerard's wrists clasped in his hands, forcing his weak arms raised high.

"Up."

Gerard swings his legs over the side of the bed they stood and heaved himself up. The muscles in his legs hurt, but he knew better than to complain. The two men escorted him to a room, though, 'escort' seems to formal. It was more like 'they politely dragged him without any concern for his physical well being.' The wrists of Gerard, that had been entrapped by Ray's long spindly hands, were held tightly behind his back, twisting his arms in the wrong direction. Once again, he said nothing.

It was only when he was thrust into a torturous looking metal chair smack dab in the middle of the room he said something.

"Why am I here?" his voice is raspy and dry, no water was provided with his meal, and he was on the verge of fainting.

Ray pulls out a notepad from an inner pocket of his black well-fitted suit jacket, flipping to a new page. He slips out a pen that was perched on his ear, covered by his large head of hair. "We need you to answer some questions," he explains as Bob snatches a remote from a hidden shelf. "Now, if you give us unsatisfactory answers, well..."

Bob eagerly twists down the knob and slams his hand onto a large button. At contact, Gerard's body is filled with shocks, the unbearable flow of electricity sends his body into an inescapable spasm. All his limbs, locked in place by metal clasps, shook painfully as his face morphed into agony. He felt like screaming, but nothing came out, his chest felt tight, and as though it were about to implode on itself. But, as suddenly as it arrived, the electricity ceased. Although it had stopped, his body still quaked in the aftermath.

Ray only smirked at his clear misery, "Now, my friend Bob here, was nice enough to turn down the voltage levels, but next time he won't be so nice. Will you Bobby?" Bob didn't respond, all he did was crank up the previously lowered knob.

Gerard decided in that moment, that he'd lie. He'd lie only when need to. If it would get Mikey, his family, his friends or anyone he held dear into trouble, then he'd fudge the truth.

Ray clears his throat. "First things first, who sent you?"

Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for the long wait and short length... I had a whole chapter written a couple days ago, but didn't post it, because I wanted to add more. With my luck, the tab closed out when I didn't have signal, thus, leading to AO3 not being able to save it. THEN, I COULDN'T GET IT BACK. I had to rewrite the beginning part along the same lines, that's why it took forever. So... sorry.
> 
> AND HOLY FUCK THEY'RE RELEASING NEW MUSIC I'M-


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY YOU LONELY EMOS. I'M SO SINGLE I FINISHED UP THIS CHAPTER FOR ALL YOU FELLOW SINGLES OUT THERE WHO CAME ON HERE TO READ LOVE STORIES BETTER THAN YOU'RE OWN. AND THEY'RE ALL FAKE.

Who sent him? Who sent him? How was he supposed to bend that answer? There was only one way he could answer, the truth. “S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W did…” It was the name Pete had muttered while talking to Mikey, such a secret must’ve been the name.

“Do you think this is some sort of joke?” Ray asks. With that, Bob slams the button with full force, sending Gerard’s body into an unbreakable seizure. His veins felt like they were on fire, pulsing the flaming blood through his body.

”I- I answered your question-” He sputtered out once Bob released the charges.

Ray scoffs, “Please, no small-time gang we’ve never heard of was skilled enough to get one of their own in here.”

At the diss of Mikey and Pete’s gang, Gerard felt a sudden urge to defend their work. “They aren’t small! Your gang has been going at it with them enough to know who they are.”

“What makes you so cocky to think you can speak with us in that tone, kid?”

The jolting begins once more. Gerard doesn’t scream or thrash around, he locks his joints in place and takes the pain with tears streaming down his face. It lasts longer than the other two combined and would’ve gone on a lot longer if Ray hadn’t stepped in.

“Alight, Bobby, that’s enough. He still has to be conscious during this or it’ll be like trying to get answers out of that junkie.”

Bob sighs, but still complies, “Then we need something other than the Chair to make him talk.”

Ray saunters over to Gerard and slips a blade out of his pocket, “I know that much.” He traces the tip along the outline of Gerard’s lips. “It would be a shame to blemish your skin, so thin and pretty,” a burst of hot pain floods through his face from his cheek, “So easy to cut.” He withdraws, but still leaves his knife in the small wound, making it sting even worse. “Bobby, call Him.”

“God?!” Gerard asks in disbelief before he realizes what a dumb thing he just said.

Ray laughs and moves the knife away from his face, the chilling air hitting the cut. “Just for that, I’ll move the knife away. You're funny, kid. Try to not fuck this up and I’ll keep you around.”

Bob slides a thin phone out from a hidden pocket within his fresh suit jacket and presses one of the contacts that appear on the screen. A small jingle plays as he waits for the other line. A click lets him know that he’s accepted the call, “Boss.”

“Bob.” A voice comes through the other end, you could practically hear the tiredness.

Bob sighs at the lack of formality, “We’ve got the guy.”

This seems to pique the unknown figure’s interest, “Do you, now?”

“Yeah, he’s talking about a group called S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W and-”

The voice cuts through at the name, “Keep him there. I’ll be down in a moment.”

“But, Frank-” Bob protests.

“Do not use my name.”

The line goes dead.

With his phone in hand, he facepalms harshly as Ray snickers at the life-threatening mistake. They start debating what form of punishment Gerard will receive. It’s a strong tie between skin carving and being forced to watch his family die when a soft knock on the door sends them quiet. Ray is the one to step up and open it.

A stout man with dark hair in a clean white suit is revealed, contrasting heavily to Ray’s and Bob’s dark suits and light hair. His moon-like eyes are heavily lidded and surrounded by dark circles, making the bright hazel stick out like a sore thumb, but in an enchanting way. All visible skin, besides his face, was decorated in intricate tattoos and scars, giving him a broken doll sort of appearance. Everything on him screamed ‘rich,’ right from his diamond-studded watch to the aroma of his conditioner.

His eyes travel up Gerard’s thin frame, clouded in judgment, “This is him?”

“Yep, this is Way.”

The man named ‘Frank’ looks at the two in annoyance, “This is the man who was supposed to be so deadly and experienced that he could take us out with his eyes closed?”

Ray looks over to the chair-bound man, “You  _ are _ Gerard, right?”

He nods, not seeing the significance to his name.

“Gerard Way,” Frank purrs, eyes now strapped to Gerard’s, “You  _ are _ telling us the whole truth and nothing but the truth, correct?”

Nothing. He does nothing. He does not answer the question. Now, you may expect this to end with Gerard being cut, shocked or beaten, but it does not. Well, it nearly does. Bob attempts to slam his hand on the button once more but is stopped by a callused hand covered in ink, Frank. He does the same thing to Ray when he begins flexing the knife. His face shows anything but pity for Gerard, it’s more blank. He doesn’t seem angry, but he’s not exactly thrilled either.

“Gentlemen, I’m going to ask you two to leave the room.”

With a curt wave of his hand, the two clear the area like it was about to be bombed. Gerard expects Frank to say something, anything after they had left, but he just stares. It suddenly dawned on him how thin and tight the clothes he was dressed in were, the realization sent a flush to his cheeks. Gerard didn’t think Frank was interested in his body, at least in that way, he seemed to be eyeing up his muscles and flexibility for the most part. Though his feminine features did not go unnoticed, nor his attractive attributes.

He felt vulnerable under his gaze, more vulnerable than the men with torture devices. It might have been because of his position and the power it held. More likely it was the slightly charming look in his eye, despite clearly being outraged at his defiance. Then something unexpected happened. He smirked.

It wasn’t an ‘I’m going to kill you’ kind of smirk, it was a kind of smirk that read something along the lines of ‘I have a plan and you have no choice but to obey my every whim.’

“I have a proposition.” Gerard’s mouth felt heavy and glued shut, but he didn’t mind, seeing as he had nothing to say. “You’re likely one of their best since you were sent here on your own to break in. It makes me wonder…” his cat-like eyes felt predatory over the scared man. “It makes me wonder what you could do for  _ me _ .”

Now he  _ had _ to say something. He couldn’t just sit there and let him make demands and control him. “I’m not interested.” His throat tightened with every word, but he didn’t let his pain show, though it was heard.

Frank’s previously smirked lips squinched up to one side of his face once Gerard started speaking. The well-groomed brows above his eyes furrowed in thought or possibly even concern. “You need water.”

Gerard looked at him in surprise. Sure, it was obvious he needed something to drink, but he never expected him to  _ get  _ one. If anyone were to give him something, he’d have expected Ray. Yet, here he is. Watching tiredly as Frank ordered someone, most likely Ray or Bob, to go grab him a drink.

Once the figure brought back a large cup and handed it to Frank, he shooed them off and mumbled something along the lines of ‘you two should enjoy something special, like the wine.’ Gerard tried to not seem eager for the water in case Frank had a sadistic pleasure for begging, but he just unlocked one of the wrist clasps and handed him the cup once the feeling came back in his wrists. With a still shaking hand, he accepted the cup and drank deep sips, making breathy noises of pleasure after each gulp. All Frank did was lean against the closed door and watch him in curiosity.

“What is it…?” Gerard questions are downing the chill water and setting the cup on the armrest behind the wrist clasp.

“The job offer?”

“No, not that. You’ve just been looking at me the whole time…” he responds, tugging at the tight shirt sleeve of his cuffed wrist.

Frank blinks in realization, “Sorry, I just expected you to unlock your other cuff. I left the key right there for you too.” He gestures to the armrest where a shiny copper key lays out in the open and right in his line of vision.

Gerard stumbles to clasp the key, only knocking the delicately designed class cup to the floor with a loud shatter. Both men stare at the cup in silence, Gerard is the first to look up at Frank, mainly in fear of more punishment. Frank looks up to meet his fear-blown hazel eyes when feeling a gaze on him. Then, he laughs. He laughs like he hasn’t laughed in years and was just told the funniest joke in the world

His laugh was loud and broken, but still genuine, and oddly beautiful to Gerard. It felt real. This was him in bliss and letting down the serious persona he had to keep up all the time to achieve peak respect and status. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mystifying sight before him.

The golden laugh died down and the two men locked their eyes onto the other, absorbing their presence and features.

“You know,” Frank begins, “You still haven’t unlocked your cuff.”

Gerard’s hollow face flushes, making the malnourished features even more prominent of his porcelain skin. Frank’s eyes dance over the features and locks onto the small cut Ray had made earlier as a tease- no, a warning. He edges closer and his hand subconsciously sticks out, lightly holding Gerard’s face and brushing over the wound’s snow dried trickle of blood.

The two froze in their actions once they realized the situation. Gerard dropped the key and Frank took a step back. Their eyes there glued together in an awkward mutual stare. Frank brushed his suit jacket hurriedly and let out a forced cough.

“I’ll make sure they aren’t as rough on you.”

Gerard bit his lip, not daring to make the request. But he dared. “Can you unlock these? I- I dropped the key.”

Frank blinked back at him a few times before a devilish grin spread across his face. “Find a way, Way. You’ll figure it out.”

With that, he walked out of the room leaving the door wide open for anyone who passed by to see his weakened state. Gerard furrowed his brow and stared down at the key on the floor. It wasn’t too far away, but his legs were locked, so he couldn’t kick it upwards towards himself. He twisted his ankle so that the tips of his toes touched only the very end of the key. Carefully, he slid it back towards himself and reached down with his previously unlocked hand to snatch it from the floor, as though it were going to fly away.

He triumphantly opens each lock, his smile growing wider with every satisfactory click of release. But once they’re all open, he just sits in the chair, not knowing what to do with himself. Did he leave? Should he leave the room? It could’ve been a test. Maybe this was Frank trying to test more of his skill. Eventually, he stood from the chair, clasping on to the sturdy object as his legs retained regular blood flow.

With a few attempts, he begins walking relatively normal once more and peers out of the door and into the home. The first thing he notices is the lack of furniture. At that, the conversation he had with Pete rings through his mand. Frank moved around constantly. Of course, he had to keep himself away from a specified location for a more difficult time tracking him

Frank sits in front of a fire, back turned away from Gerard. The area he sat in seemed to be the hollow shell of a grand living area, with the walls lined with empty bookshelves, only interrupted by the stone-built fireplace. Gerard hadn’t made any sound, but Frank’s head whipped around once he peeked out of the door, at the sight of his face. He sets down the book and hops into a standing position.

He gives a swift hand motion for the frightened man to come into full view. He follows without complaint. Frank eyes him up and down, then pulls out a small bag of chopped up fruit from within his coat and offers it to Gerard. Not wanting to be rude at the kind gesture, he takes the mix gratefully and pops a few of the chopped fruits into his mouth.

Frank sits back onto the floor and pats a spot next to him for Gerard. He sits down gracefully, still snacking on the offer.

“Gerard, can you be honest with me?”

Every organ in his body told him to say no or to at least lie, all except his heart. His heart was a warm gooey mess at the caring gestures Frank had made for him in such a short span of time. No one had treated him this kindly, not even Mikey, though he was a close second.

“Of course.”

The shorter man looked down at the book beside him, breaking eye contact, but still addressing him. “Could you tell me the names of the people who sent you?”

Gerard’s heart stopped, but he knew he made a deal to himself, and he intended to keep it.

“No, I’m sorry, Frank.”

The man’s body shivered at the name, but then tensed up once he processed what the answer had been.

“A location, then?”

Gerard shook his head and uttered a soft ‘no,’ feeling guilty for not helping the man after he had been so kind.

Frank looked over at Gerard, his eyes were angelic looking. In a flash, however, they changed to fury as he backhanded Gerard across the face, hitting the healed cut dead-on. The assaulted man fell backward onto the floor, only propped up by his elbows. The stinging in his face wasn’t the cause of the tears, it was the fact Frank had clearly been nice only for answers to benefit himself.

The betrayer mutters something in a sleek phone, resembling the one Bob had, and in an instant, Gerard had a cloth covering his nose and mouth, courtesy of someone out of his view, filling his head with a strong scent. His eyelids drooped shut, and the last thing he remembered before he lost consciousness, was the scowl Frank had across his face as he looked down on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fr though, thanks for the support you've all given me on this fic and I'm really sorry I took this long to upload. I've been working on a third story and a long one-shot for a contest here on AO3. I hope you forgive me!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK. I'm SO SORRY FOR ABANDONING THIS FIC FOR... [checks date] UM ALMOST TWO WHOLE MONTHS. You can bother me @zcantreallywrite on Tumblr!

“Kid- fuck, what’s your name… Oh, Gerard! Gerard! Wake up you fucker!” There’s a heavy sigh of frustration as suddenly the whole world starts shaking. Only, it’s not the whole world. Once Gerard opens his eyes, with great difficulty, he makes out the blurred figure of Ray. It’s not his figure, more or less his massive mound of fluffy hair. That fluffy mound of hair’s hands was clasped onto Gerard’s shoulders and violently moving his body to disrupt his sleep. Even after Ray lets go and Gerard is sat up in a slump, he’s still disoriented.

“Where- wait…” his mind whirs as his joints pop and his brain buzzes to life. Suddenly, the previous events flood his mind. A hand grabs his attention as it wiggles in his vision and draws his focus to a confused Ray trying to make sure he hasn’t suffered from any brain damage.

“Oh, thank fuck, Gerard. I thought you had a concussion or something.” Even though Ray didn’t know Gerard personally, he did feel the urge to take care of him as he would with anyone else he cared for.

Gerard clutched his head, it certainly felt like he’d experienced one. “Ray, where are we?” His hazel eyes whiz around a different room than the one he’d previously been in. Both shared the same victorian style, but this one had a completely different vibe. Instead of the isolated aura the previous room emitted, this room gave off a more ‘guest room’ sort of feel. While the other room had been filled with starched, hardly used materials, this one had broken-in objects. The bed was more flexible, the sheets were softer, even the bulb gave off a dimmer light from wear and use.

“You think I know where we are? Well, I do know, but why would I tell  _ you _ that?” He made a good point. “Look, if you’re okay then you need to eat something; Iero insisted.” Gerard felt like his head stored pounds of dense fog and could barely move his body at all. He only nodded his head in response, not really absorbing the information.

Ray looks over at him with concern in his eyes, “Gerard, can you speak at all? Just say anything to me right now.” Gerard let the muscles in his neck fall weak as he shook his head no. Ray’s delicate hand cupped his sagging face and tilted his mouth open to slip some of the softer food inside. “I just need you to chew a little and then swallow, okay?”

The two repeat the process once or twice before Gerard is so sore he can’t even get his own mouth to keep anything in.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell was on that rag? No one is ever this disoriented after a gagging unless…” a shine of recognition fills his eyes. “Gerard, did you eat any food besides what Bob gave you?” It takes a moment for Gerard to collect his thoughts before he shakes his head no. “Iero is the one guy I know to have constructed something as powerful as this kind of formula. All they did was give me the rag for the job, but didn’t tell me what it was for…” He trails off at Gerard’s panicked blown eyes.

“Fruit,” he chokes out of his lax throat.

Ray narrowed his eyes and tucked Gerard back into the bed he woke up in. “Of course that bastard would. Goddammit, Frank.”

He storms out of the room quietly after Gerard had fallen back into an involuntary sleep, still muttering curses and promises under his breath. He was really going to give it to Frank for tricking him like that so soon.

  
  


The pillows were an odd texture, but he’d be lying if he said they weren’t comfy. Gerard snuggles his head deeper into the solid pillow with the rough case. “I knew this was a bad idea, my fucking legs are asleep.”

That wasn’t Gerard, but Gerard is the only one in the room… right? He tilts his head upward in a sleepy gaze and the first thing his eyes focus one is the blurry outline of a man “Ray?” No. Not Ray. He could recognize Ray’s hair anywhere, this was not him.

A scoff can be heard with the same mysterious voice as before, still unknown with Gerard’s bleary eyes still wiping the fog from them. “Oh, honey, how could you have forgotten me already? I thought we had a special connection.”

That was when the pieces clicked together. Suddenly the voice was recognizable and so were his words. It was as though a window wiper came through in the blink of an eye and cleared Gerard’s foggy mind. The pillows were not pillows, those pillows were thighs. Said thighs belonged to none other than-

“Frank,” Gerard gasps out as he scrambles away from his body, subconsciously covering his own.

Frank winces at the casual use of his name but pushes away the thought. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, I know how that formula can affect people. Especially since I assume you’ve never been gagged before?” Gerard abashedly shook his head, as though he should be embarrassed for never being gagged. “Don’t worry, it gets easier.”

The two lock eyes and Frank suddenly retracts, “No, no I mean I won’t let it happen again! If it does then you’ll just get through it easier,” he chuckles.

“I- I want to go home…” Gerard wobbles out, feeling vulnerable at making such a demand.

Frank’s brown furrow into an unidentified emotion before turning to sympathy, “Don’t worry, love. You’re safer here, with me.”

Gerard squirmed out of Frank’s reach, only for Frank to lean over and pin his wrists to the sheets, still sitting beside him. “Let- Let me go,” he whimpered, not liking the forcefulness of his actions and tone.

So he did. Frank released his wrists and leaned back onto the intricate headboard. “Sorry, I don’t really know how to act around new people…” he abashedly states, scratching the back on his neck awkwardly.

That was definitely not what the captive expected to hear from his menacing captor, but he understood. Even from a young age people were not his strong suit. This had led to drinking and drugs. It made him feel open and alive, yet still not aware enough to want to continue being closed off.

“Kidnapping people isn’t the best way to do that,” he said carefully, still paranoid that Frank was hiding a weapon.

Frank let out a small laugh. “I can see that now.” Then he just stared at Gerard for a long while, his eyes locking on to his. Eventually, he snapped out of it and smiled. “Come eat with me.”

“No,” Gerard immediately said, the conversation with Ray’s warning playing through his mind.

Frank’s eyes flash, but he doesn’t move. “It wasn’t a request.”

His words sent a chill down Gerard’s spine. The two locked eyes for a moment, but it seemed to drag on forever. Frank left a terrifying feeling in his gut without moving an inch. He only stared and stared. Gerard’s mind twisted it into the most threatening thing that could possibly have been directed towards him. As though his eyes were two guns pressed right into his head.

Neither one said anything. Not even when Frank stood up and pulled Gerard to his feet by his hand. Not when Frank pulled Gerard out of the room to a fully furnished mansion. Not even when Frank pulled Gerard down the stairs. Not even when Frank pulled Gerard to a small dining table. Not even when Frank pulled out a chair for Gerard. Not even when Frank put Gerard into the chair. Not even when Frank brought his own chair to sit right next to Gerard. Not even when a large silver platter was set in front of them, opened to hold some sort of richly grilled vegetables.

Frank piled a heaping serving onto a delicate china plate and set it in front of Gerard, repeating the action once more for his own plate.

Though Gerard and Frank had similarly colored eyes, Frank’s somehow seemed richer. His were gold, while Gerard’s were a sandy-honey. The golden eyes burrowed into Gerard’s skin as he peered expectantly over to his dining partner.

“It’s impolite to refuse food given to you.”

There was no option, no choice he was given. With a shaky hand, he picks up a fork and stabs one of the expertly grilled vegetables on his plate. After a short pause to brace himself for another possible spiked dish, he shoves the food in his mouth and swallows hurriedly.

It tasted terrible. Too many spices piled on one another that would’ve amazed gourmet chefs, but only overwhelmed Gerard. Gerard who never had the money to splurge on going to fancy restaurants to expand his palette. Gerard, whose family didn’t have enough cash lying around to raise him on a hundred dollar meals daily. It was terrible.

He tries to not let the distaste show on his face by quickly washing it down with water. Frank sees it.

“It’s good right?” he inquired, full-knowing of the answer.

Gerard’s lips pull into an uneasy grin as he eagerly nods, trying to not upset him in any way.

All Frank does is click his tongue in disappointment. “You’ll get used to the taste soon, love. Don’t worry.”

Too close. They were too close together for Gerard’s taste. Frank only made that worse by plucking his own fork out of the neat row set next to his plate and dipped a vegetable into some red-brown sauce, then clasping Gerard's chin with his free hand.

“Open.”

You could practically hear the squeak of his jaw as Gerard opened his mouth despite desperately not wanting too. Frank puts the food onto Gerard’s tongue, then, once he pulls the fork out, pushes up his chin to shut his mouth.

“It’s like feeding a baby,” he chuckles. “The sauce makes it better.”

Gerard would beg to differ. The sauce left an itchy feeling on his tongue and the exotic spices weren’t helping that fact either. What Frank had claimed to be a great improvement to the dish only made Gerard want to sputter out his food. He manages to keep it in, even though the taste seems to have increased in horridness from the fact it was simply fed to him by Frank’s own hand.

They repeat this process until the food is completely gone from Gerard’s plate. Then he’s forced to sit there as Frank calmly eats his own food, enjoying the tastes and textures a lot more than Gerard did.

Once he’s finished up after an excruciatingly long silence, he turns to Gerard. “This is actually a choice, so you’re going to answer the way you want to.”

“Are you sure?” Gerard blurts before he can stop himself.

Frank’s eyebrows lift in astonishment and a bit of beginning anger. “I am sure, but if you keep that attitude up, it suddenly  _ won’t _ be a choice.”

“Y-yes, Frank-”

“Call me Sir or Boss like everyone else. I’ll let you know when you’ve earned that right.”

At the title, Gerard’s throat closes up. He doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of holding some sort of power or authority over him. Yet, there’s no other option to let him weasel his way out of his direct demand. “Yes,  _ Sir _ .”

“You have the choice of returning to your quarters,” his eyes gleam a bit, “or you can join me in mine.”

There wasn’t even a second thought before Gerard’s mouth was moving on its own again. “No thanks, Sir. I’ll stay in my own room.”

Gerard moves to stand up, expecting this to be the end of their meet. All he can think about is crashing his head into the comfort of the sheets and trying to erase the thought of Frank’s filthy hands touching him. He touched him as he led him through the house. As he pulled him out of bed. As he pushed him into the chair. As he  _ fed _ him. He felt like a piece of evidence in a crime scene, littered with the fingerprints of a monster. Then, there Frank was again, touching Gerard as he pulled him back from leaving the room.

“Just because I gave the offer for you to sleep in your room, doesn’t mean we’re done talking for today,” he growls.

Once again, Gerard allows himself to be led.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @zcantreallywrite is where I'll interact with you guys and give updates on projects and tell you guys ideas I'm having! You'll also see when I'm not writing and bother me to do it.
> 
> Feel free to message me or send asks!


	5. Chapter 5

Uhm. 😐

hello AO3 people. Yes. This is the author on their phone at fucking 3am.

If youre like subscribed to this (or whatever) thank you very much!

I have been doing other projects and this one (while not entirely) slipped my mind. And I don’t think that’s very fair

So as of now this is a dead work. But not. Entirely.

because I love you all very much I am planning a new story outline for this universe and will upload it............. Uh whenever I write out the chapters.

but I will eventually upload it if you want to keep up with it :/

very sorry to clog your subscription box.

Have a nice day or nice night :)


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